


Growing Pains

by Mellomailbox



Series: on the wall verse [5]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Domestic, M/M, Professor Dad, dadneto, maximoff twins, wall verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:32:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3469439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellomailbox/pseuds/Mellomailbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles gets called to a disciplinary meeting at Wanda and Pietro's school and returns home to an unhappy Erik.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [endingthemes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/endingthemes/gifts).



Charles knows he’s forgetting something. It’s burrowing in the back of his mind, small enough to ignore when more pressing things need his attention, but large enough to keep him from ever really relaxing. He’d normally pop in on Erik and ask him if he knew, but today Erik’s shrouded his mind with dark curtains embroidered with a clear request for privacy, so Charles stays out.

Erik gets like this, sometimes, so Charles doesn’t take it to heart. Erik has been a saint when it comes to his telepathy, far more understanding than anyone in his life, even Raven. It’s only natural that every once in a while he retreat back into himself, that he needs space. Especially since Erik is naturally introverted, and Charles’ telepathy pretty much eliminates the kind of privacy Erik has spent his whole life accustomed to.

“Mr. Xavier?”

Charles blinks a few times, pulled from his thoughts, and says, “Oh, my apologies. I was lost in thought for a moment, you know how it is.”

The woman smiles, and even though it’s tight Charles can tell that it’s not from prejudice, it’s simply from the stress of wrangling 12 year olds all day. It’d been a fight to get Erik to agree to enroll Wanda and Pietro into a public, integrated school rather than the private mutant academy that he’d wanted to, but Charles wholly believes that this is what’s best for their children.

“As I was saying,” the woman says pointedly, and her hair is a lovely shade of brown, close in color to Erik’s hair. The thought niggles the thing bothering him again, and he almost has it when he feels a spike of anxiety lash strongly from where Pietro is sitting next to him, and he lets it go to tune back in.

The teacher, Ms. Marie, he remembers, is pulling a dvd from her drawer, and Charles raises a brow at Pietro. “What’s this?” He asks, although he’s looking at where Pietro is hunching his shoulders and thinking, steadily, _keep out keep out I’m sorry keep out_.

“This is a recording from class today. Since we’re one of the few integrated schools and normal issues tend to get politically escalated, we have cameras installed in every room. You signed the waiver when enrolling, I hope you remember.” It’s defensive, but not in a rude way, and Charles feels a little bad for her. She’s probably had to defend herself from more than one hysterical parent.

“Oh yes, I do remember that. Quite a comforting addition, really.” He says soothingly, all while Pietro gets more and more stressed. “Why is this relevant, though?”

“I think it’d be better if you watched, Mr. Xavier,” She says, and gives Pietro a wry look.

She taps the ‘play’ button on her laptop and turns it around to face them, and Charles sees Pietro, his sister and the other students watching Ms. Marie with bored eyes as she points to something on the screen behind her. There’s a twitch from where the students are that has alarm ringing from Pietro again, and when Ms. Marie sits on her seat she immediately leaps up with a shout and rubs her butt.

She stops the video then, and says, “Do I need to rewind it?”

Charles is looking at Pietro where he’s slid all the way down his chair, face red and looking determinedly away. “No, I think I’ve seen enough.  Pietro, love, why did you put a – tack, I’m assuming?—a tack on Ms. Marie’s seat?”

Pietro bites his lip but keeps looking away, thinking, _keep out keep out keep out_ , and Charles sighs, sharing a look with Ms. Marie.

“Pietro, don’t make me come in there.” He warns. He’d told the children that he’d respect their privacy if they ever wanted it, but that was with the understanding that they respect him, in turn. He and Erik had spoken at length about it, and if their behavior warranted it, Charles had explicitly told them that he would use his telepathy in response to misbehavior.  

“I didn’t mean to,” He says, and it’s barely a mumble, just enough give to keep Charles from digging in his mind. “I had no choice.”

If he were Erik he would be furious at Pietro, shouting, “Of course you had a choice!” But he’s not Erik, and he hears a ring of truth to Pietro’s words as he lays a hand on Pietro’s knee.

“Why don’t you think you had a choice?” Charles asks softly, encouraging him to continue.

“It’s Wanda’s fault,” He mumbles again, and Charles purses his lips.

“Pietro,” He warns, and that’s all it takes and Pietro explodes into a flurry of emotion, tears collecting at the corner of his eyes in embarrassment.

He pulls himself up and finally looks at Charles and says, too fast, “ItwasoneofWanda’shexesIhadtotheywouldhavebeensomeantoherI’msorry.”

Charles holds up a hand and Pietro stops, a tear slipping down his cheek, and turns to Ms. Marie. “I’m really sorry,” He says to her, and his voice cracks. “Wanda and I really like you, I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

She seems a little lost for words, and folds her gloved hands on her lap. “Could you tell me why you did it, Pete?” She asks, and his shoulders sag in defeat.

“One of Wanda’s hexes went haywire. Something’s been happening to her lately, and in the middle of class one went off, but instead of annoying someone else it did something to her. She asked me to distract everyone so she could go clean up.” Pietro’s starting to tear up again, and he hasn’t cried like this since he was much smaller, and Charles is starting to get alarmed.

Charles squeezes Pietro’s knee comfortingly, and Pietro says, “There was blood on her seat after she snuck out, though.”

The panic that had begun building in Charles finally settles, and he can sense Ms. Marie’s relief as well. She moves along easily, clearly used to these sorts of things, and says, “I think that I should start our course on sex education a little early,” ruefully to Charles.

“Perhaps you should,” Charles agrees, and turns to Pietro’s confused expression. “Your sister is fine,” he says, “And it’s admirable that you were protecting her. But what you did to Ms. Marie was cruel, and you need to apologize.”

“I am really, really sorry,” Pietro says immediately, and Ms. Marie smiles.

“You’re forgiven. But next time something like that happens, you need to tell me about it. And I have to give you detention for using your powers during class, just like I’d give a non-mutant detention for talking during class, ok?”

Pietro nods miserably, and looks at Charles. “Are you going to tell dad?” It’s not really a question, and Charles gives him a look.

Ms. Marie is mentally berating herself for losing track of Wanda, and Charles is admittedly a little upset that his daughter was able to sneak out of class so easily but decides to let it go. No harm, no foul, after all.

“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Xavier,” She says, clearly bringing the meeting to a close. She stands, and Pietro shuffles guiltily to his feet, automatically going to open the classroom door for Charles.

“Anytime, Ms. Marie,” he says and shakes her hand. She looks as exhausted as he feels, but there’s still a spark of mischief in her eyes, something about her, and he smiles. “Hopefully under better circumstances next time.”

She laughs, and says, “Have a good evening. Say hello to your husband for me.”

“Gladly.”

Charles rolls out of the empty classroom, eyes quickly landing on where Wanda’s crouched shyly on a bench, waiting for them. She’s got her knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped tightly around them, and she gives Charles a mournful look from under her curls. Her backpack is on the floor next to a plastic bag, and now that Charles is paying attention he notices that she’s not wearing the jeans that she left the house in, but a pair of black sweatpants, and he sighs.

“Come here,” He says to her, and opens his arms. She uncurls from the bench easily and shuffles over to him, curling into his lap for the first time ages. He feels like they’re toddlers again, Wanda sniffling against his shoulder and Pietro rubbing at where his tears have crusted around his eyes.

 _You spoke to the nurse_? He asks her, and she nods.

“She told me what was going on, and asked if I had anyone at home who could talk to me. I said that Aunt Raven could.” It’s mumbled against Charles’ shoulder, and Charles gives a sigh of relief. He has a biology-based doctorate and is more than qualified to have this conversation with her at an intellectual level, but that doesn’t mean that he’s capable of handling the emotional part of it at all. And from the conflicting emotions being broadcasted at him, there is quite an emotional part.

“I’ll give her a ring tonight.” Wanda rubs her eyes and slides off of Charles’ lap, gangly arms folded across her chest protectively. Pietro’s looking equally as despondent, and Charles runs a hand through his hair. He hates seeing them like this.

He checks his mental calendar and says gravely, “I think we need to have ice cream immediately.” It cracks a smile from Wanda and gets an amused eye roll from Pietro, which is what Charles was going for, and Wanda grabs her bags from the ground as they make their way out of the school.

Erik usually works late on Wednesday, so Charles doesn’t even bother sending him a text since he won’t see it until he’s getting ready to leave, anyways.

The school is mostly empty, just a few faculty and the occasional student straggling behind from after school clubs. He pushes his wheelchair in silence for a few moments before he turns to Pietro with a sly grin and says, “I’m upset with you, I really am, but did you see how fast you were going in that tape?”

Pietro grins wide and toothy, so much like his father, and replies excitedly, “I know! You barely even saw me twitch!”

“You must have been booking it,” Charles says, unable to keep the pride from coloring his voice at how well Pietro is mastering his mutation. Wanda is prickling from the praise that her brother is getting, and when Pietro goes to open the door to their SUV he gets an abnormally strong static shock.

“Hey!” He cries out, clutching his hand to his chest just as Wanda shouts, “Shotgun!” And throws open the passenger side door.

“That’s cheating!” He shouts back, but climbs into the back without trying to wrestle her away from the seat, and that shows more than anything that he’s still worried about her. Charles bites back a smile as he starts the car.

“It is not! It’s not my fault that you got shocked, it’s science.” She shoots back.

“ _Science_ ,” Pietro mocks, “Doesn’t have _pink sparks_.”

Wanda laughs loudly as Charles pulls them out of the parking lot and onto the street.

\---

Wanda’s hormones are fluctuating at nauseating levels, and Charles quickly pulls his telepathy around himself tightly in order to block her out.  It’s only when they’re pulling into the driveway two and a half hours later that Charles lets his shields loosen, and as he parks the car he’s immediately met with a wave of fear/panic/rage that’s so distinctly _Erik_ , and the ferocity of emotion is enough to make him nauseous again, and he grips the steering wheel tightly and tries his hardest not to barf.

The twins have already barreled out of the car and into the house at the sight of Raven’s car in the driveway, excited to see their Aunt, and Charles tentatively touches Erik’s mind just as Pietro throws the door open. He gets a strong surge of relief for just a moment before a mental door is slammed shut, familiar in it’s fury. It’s Erik’s way of keeping him out when they’re about to fight, and Charles sighs and wonders what’s upset his husband now. He rolls into the house fully expecting a clean fight ending with Erik apologizing, since he can’t think of anything he could have done to warrant the sort of fury that Erik is directing at him.

Charles stops short, though, heart dropping into his stomach, because Raven’s sitting on the stairs giving him a disapproving look, the kids’ suitcases stacked next to her, and Erik’s jaw is locked in a way that screams _hurt_ even if he’s projecting _angry_. The table is set with food that is likely cold by now, illuminated by candles whose flames flicker against empty wine glasses.

“It’s our anniversary,” Charles realizes, and Erik won’t look at him but Raven’s gathered the twins, who are eagerly telling her about their day in a way of intentionally ignoring what’s going on between their parents.

“I was supposed to drop the kids off with Raven and meet you here at six,” He says in an equally dejected voice, and the door clicks shut just as he’s saying, “Erik, love, I’m so--”

The moment the door is shut Erik goes off like a rocket, turning on Charles and shouting, “Don’t you _dare_ say you’re sorry!” Charles can feel Wanda cringe from where she’s turned around for something she’s forgotten, hand on the door, and bless his sister because she calls Wanda away and to her car. They’ll need to talk to Wanda later, explain that sometimes parents yell, it’s nothing to worry about.

Erik must see Charles’ thoughts wander because he clenches his fist and turns on his heel back into the kitchen, metal pots and pans rattling from their hooks on the walls.

“Where are you going? Are you going to let me talk?” Charles asks, because he hasn’t even had a chance to explain himself, and he thinks that his voice is calm but he hears the hurt coloring it after he’s spoken. Erik spins again, a whirlwind of frustration, and glares at Charles.

“I called you,” He says as answer, and Charles pats his pockets, even as he remembers that he’s left his cellphone at work, plugged into his computer.  Erik’s dressed nicely in a maroon button up and black vest, his hair slicked back. Charles would bet that he’s wearing his nice cologne, too, clearly making efforts for him.

“Efforts you can’t seem to make for me,” Erik says, and Charles must have been projecting his dismay.

“That’s not entirely fair,” He starts to say, and Erik interrupts him again, voice wavering.

“When have I _ever_ forgotten my phone, Charles? And you know what, fuck the phone. Why were you blocking me out tonight?”

“Blocking you-- what, Erik, I’d never! You asked me to keep out earlier--”

“-- so that I could prepare some semblance of a _surprise_ for our anniversary dinner--”

“You can’t be mad at me for keeping out of your head and-- and then make a jab about my telepathy in the same breath!”

“I wasn’t making a jab, Charles! You’re being petty,” Erik bites, and Charles’ wheelchair is vibrating along with the rest of the metal in the house, but this argument is quickly spinning out of control and Charles barely notices, can’t help the way his voice is rising along with Erik's.

“ _I’m_ being petty!? You haven’t given me a chance to explain myself! I would never be malicious towards you Erik, you know that. Just let me--”

Erik throws his arms up at that and shouts “Your carelessness does the damage on it’s own, Charles! You don’t need malice! Does this marriage mean so little to you that I’d be completely out of your mind _all day_ , that you’d not think of me _once_?”

Charles has had enough, and the words are out of his mouth before he even realizes he’s thought them.

“I was a little distracted taking care of _your_ children!”

The room is silent, the only sounds their ragged breathing as they both realize what he’s said. Erik’s face, previously twisted in rage, falls into a flat, emotionless mask. Charles can still see the hurt in his eyes, though, can feel the heavy weight of his words pressing all around them.

“My children,” Erik all but whispers, and it’s like a knife in Charles’ heart.

“Erik, no, I didn’t mean--” But it’s too late, Erik is walking away, and Charles clutches the armrests of his wheelchair and wishes vehemently that he had the ability to launch himself at Erik, to wrap his arms around him and beg him for forgiveness.

Erik slams the door to their room shut with his powers, and Charles rolls over to it, calls, “Open the door. Please. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. You know that I don’t truly feel that way.”

“I don’t know anything,” Erik says, and his voice breaks on the last syllable, a piercing arrow of _betrayal_ slipping through his control and burrowing into Charles’ chest.

He presses his forehead against the door and lets his own tears collect along his lids, growing heavier until they fall into his lap. He pushes _remorse_ and _love_ at Erik, and receives nothing in return.

“Please open the door,” Charles says after a few minutes have passed, and is surprised to hear Erik get up from where he’s been sitting on the bed. His heart is in his throat as Erik opens the door, manually, and his eyes are red but he looks at Charles fearlessly, doesn’t break their gaze.

“I love you,” Charles says before Erik can say anything, and Erik sucks in a breath and looks at the ceiling, hands flexing.

“I know” Erik says, finally, and moves back to their bed and sits down. Charles follows him, quickly locking his wheels and pulling himself up next to Erik. Erik’s arm automatically comes around his waist to help steady him, and he grabs Erik’s free hand in his, holds tightly as he waits for Erik to speak.

“What happened?” He finally asks, and he’s still looking away from Charles but his hold on him is strong.

“I forgot my mobile because I received a call from Wanda and Pietro’s teacher asking me to come in for a disciplinary meeting. I didn’t call you right away because you usually work late on Wednesdays and I was already supposed to go to their parent teacher conference today.”

Erik doesn’t so much as move, so Charles goes on.

“I’ll let Pietro tell you why I was there, but the main issue was Wanda starting her period today. Her hormones were everywhere, and I had to tighten my shields to keep from getting swept along with her.”

Erik breathes deeply and pulls Charles closer, finally turning his face to look at him. “Charles, I--”

Charles interrupts him this time with a shake of his head. “Let me finish.”Erik shuts his mouth obediently and waits for Charles to continue.

“Our kids,” and his voice wavers a little on the ‘our’, “were pretty upset, so I took them for ice cream. I am so sorry for forgetting our anniversary, love, you know this is just as important to me as to you. It was careless of me; I’m sorry for hurting you and I’m sorry for worrying you and I’m sorry for saying such cruel things.”

His lip is quivering even if he’s not crying, and Erik leans down and kisses him. Charles grabs onto him instantly, grip tight, and kisses him fiercely. _I’m sorry for being an ass_ , Erik thinks, and it’s laced with all of his unspoken words. _I love you too_.

They kiss for a few minutes, deep, strong kisses meant to convey love and remorse and reconciliation, and when Erik pulls away Charles leans his forehead on Erik’s chest and breathes in his cologne.

“Do you want to try again? Start the night over?” Charles asks, and nuzzles his neck. _I’m sorry_.

“No,” Erik murmurs, “I think I’d like to go to bed and try again tomorrow. It’s been a long night.” _Me too_.

They undress each other with soft kisses, relishing the intimacy, and Erik leaves to snuff out the candles and lock the door as Charles conducts his nightly routine in the bathroom.

Once they’re in bed Charles can finally relax, head settled onto Erik’s chest and Erik’s arms around him, tighter than normal.

Erik’s mind is a maelstrom of thoughts and fears as he chews over what Charles had said, finally letting news of his daughter’s impending puberty to the forefront of his mind.

“Shh,” Charles hushes him, “Calm your mind. We’ll talk about it in the morning. Raven’s taking care of it…” He trails off, the thing burrowing in his mind all day suddenly coming into focus. It wasn’t the anniversary that had been bothering him, after all, and he says, “Oh, bugger. I forgot to tell you that Raven’s sneaking the twins away to Coney Island for the rest of the week.”

“ _Charles!_ ” Erik hisses at him in frustration, and Charles looks up at him and props his chin on Erik’s chest, expression contrite.

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just--” Charles is interrupted, again, but this time it’s by Erik’s arms tightening around him as he rolls them over until Charles is pressed against the mattress beneath him, and Erik’s eyes glimmer as his mind clicks decisively into place. He’s decided how he’s going to address his frustration, and Charles smiles and says, sweetly, “We’ll talk about it in the morning…?”

“No more talking,” Erik replies, and he leans down and meets Charles’ eager mouth, smothering his laughter with frustrated kisses. Erik’s not-so-secretly pleased by the news that they’ll have the rest of the week to themselves and the prospect of a do-over, and even though they both know that this is a fight they’ll have to revisit, Charles is willing to let it sit in the back of his head for a few more days.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Endingthemes, who asked for "Parent teacher conferences or Charles fucks up an anniversary."


End file.
